


Standing Ovation

by ineedmygirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cedric Lives, Draco is a secret theatre nerd, Dumbledore Lives, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone lives, F/M, Fred Lives, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Remus Lives, Sirius Lives, Teens being disgustingly enamored with each other, harry and draco get to have normal childhoods, james and lily live, unhealthy amounts of Shakespeare, voldemort who??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9619868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedmygirl/pseuds/ineedmygirl
Summary: The Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry Drama Club proudly presents: Romeo & Juliet! Join us for a spectacular evening to celebrate the work of one of the greatest wizards to ever live. Featuring: thrilling hippogriff rides, daring sword fights, melodramatic teenagers, sexuality crises, and the unparalleled parenting skills of the Marauders!aka Luna starts a drama club and Benvolio and Mercutio fall in love behind the scenes





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I must admit, this story is purely self-indulgent.
> 
> Enjoy.

Harry was, for probably the first time in his life, _not_ running late for something. In fact, he was relatively early, one of the first people milling about the auditorium, waiting for the meeting to begin.

It was ironic really, that he should be early for this, since it was probably the last thing in the entire world he wanted to be doing. Luna had decided it would be a great idea to start a drama club - the first of which Hogwarts had ever seen. Over the summer, she had become so enamored with the arts and theatre, she decided she simply _had_ to leave behind something to that effect for future generations of Hogwarts students to enjoy when they were gone.

Because they would be. Gone, that is. All too soon, in Harry’s opinion. Luna and Ginny still had another year after they were gone, but for Harry and his friends it was their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. And here he was, spending his free time helping Luna start up a drama club. Not what he or his parents had expected of him in terms of extracurriculars, but Luna just had this way of getting Harry to do anything she asked.

Luna apparently had that same effect on just about every other seventh year, if the other occupants of the room were anything to go by. Dean and Seamus were perched on the edge of the grand stage, legs swinging while Dean cracked up at some impression Seamus appeared to be doing. Neville and Ginny were there, too, along with the Parvati twins, Cho Chang and her boyfriend Cedric, and a few other students that Harry recognized as fellow classmates.

And then, Draco Malfoy walked in.

Harry floundered for a moment, sure that Malfoy had taken some sort of wrong turn and accidentally ended up in the auditorium, and now he was going to have material to humiliate Harry with for the entire year. Malfoy walked right up to where Harry was standing, looking expectant. Harry fished desperately for something to say.

“This - this is the auditorium.” _Real eloquent, idiot._ Malfoy arched an eyebrow in a way that was so annoyingly masterful, that on Malfoy’s face it was like an art.

“Feeling observant today, are we, Potter?”

“Well I, I just mean, we’re kind of doing something in here, so. Occupied,” Harry shrugged weakly, hoping Malfoy would take the bloody hint and bugger off already. To his horror, though, Malfoy’s eyes lit up.

“Really?” he drawled, looking around and tapping his pointer finger to his chin. “And what might that be?”

“It’s just a, just a meeting, alright?” Harry said, probably a bit more defensively than necessary. Malfoy grinned, teeth glinting dangerously. He opened his mouth, presumably to shatter Harry’s self-confidence for the rest of his life, when Luna - lovely, lovely Luna - came floating over to them.

“Harry! Draco! I’m so glad you both could make it!” Luna wrapped Harry in a hug, then, to Harry’s surprise, turned to Malfoy and did the same thing. Malfoy looked far from surprised and just wrapped his arms around her in turn with a warm smile. “Almost everyone’s arrived, so we’ll be starting shortly,” Luna assured them, before floating off to another group of people.

Her words sunk in slowly.

“So,” Harry began. “You’re, uh, here for the drama club thing, too, then?” He could feel a slow smirk spreading across his face. Malfoy stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his nose up in the other direction.

“I’m quite fond of that lovely, daft girl. Couldn’t bring myself to say no,” Malfoy admits. 

“I know the feeling,” Harry agreed. And for a moment there, he could’ve sworn that he and Malfoy were having a Bonding Moment. The moment was quickly shattered, however, when Hermione and Ron arrived, along with Pansy and Blaise. Harry and Malfoy turned their backs to each other to converse with their own friends.

“This is madness,” Ron declared, looking utterly put out. Hermione swatted at his arm.

“I told you already, no complaining! You’ll hurt Luna’s feelings. This matters a lot to her and she is our friend.” Hermione shot Ron a stern look. Under his girlfriend’s powerful gaze, Ron gave in in a matter of seconds.

“It won’t be so bad,” Harry tried to console his friend. “Maybe she’ll give you a part where you don’t even have any lines and you get to just stand in the background with a sword, looking cool.”

“You think?” Ron perked up instantly.

“Or maybe she’ll make you the donkey. You won’t have any lines _and_ they won’t even have to bother giving you a costume,” a voice sneered from over Harry’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact that always came when his best friend and Malfoy were put into close quarters together. 

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what had happened there, to be honest. Malfoy could be nothing short of a complete tosser, but he was sort of funny and charming as well, which was why the entire school tolerated him. Ron, however, could never seem to get anywhere more civil than “utter and complete loathing” when it came to Malfoy, and the blonde boy’s feelings were no different. When he told his dad about, James had told Harry that Malfoy’s dad had been a “poncey wanker” in school, and that he hadn’t gotten along very well with Ron’s parents. Also, he said he had always heard that Lucius had asked out Molly once when they were 13 and she had turned him down in front of the entire Slytherin house. But, James said, that could have been just a rumor, of course.

“What the hell are you even doing here, Malfoy? The “Stick a Broken Broomstick up your own Arse Club” is meeting down the hall. I’d be happy to direct you there myself if you need any help,” Ron sneered. Harry was actually pretty impressed. Ron’s comebacks had been improving over the years. Harry suspected that he had a notebook full of them, but Ron insisted that he didn’t. Harry wasn’t convinced.

Malfoy looked impressed at the jibe as well. “Not bad, Weasel. A few more of those and you might actually almost catch up to me one day.”

“I’m already caught up! I’ve always been caught up - there was no catching up to do because you were never ahead of me!” 

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, and he was pretty sure that Ron didn’t either. But, what he lacked in finesse he made up for in enthusiasm. Lots and lots of enthusiasm. 

Malfoy and his friends laughed quite unkindly, but before Malfoy and Ron could rip each other to shreds, Luna gracefully took the stage with a dreamy grin. Everyone else took seats in the audience, Harry finding himself between Malfoy and Hermione.

“Hello, everyone!” She spoke into a microphone, which Harry thought was pretty ridiculous since they could achieve the same effect with a simple spell, but it gave the production an air of authenticity, which is what he figured Luna was going for. “I can’t even begin to tell you how very much it means to me that all of you are here today. This is going to be so much fun and I can’t wait for you all to see the magic of the theatre, just as I have.” Her words were met with a round of polite applause. “As you all saw when you signed up for the club, our play this year is going to be Romeo and Juliet! I have to say, I did a lot of meditating on it, but I’ve finally chosen roles for everyone.”

“But Luna,” Cho interrupted politely. “You didn’t even have us audition yet.” Luna smiled dreamily at her.

“Oh I don’t need you to audition. The roles chose you, I merely wrote their choices down for them.” 

Malfoy huffed out a breath of laughter from beside him that Harry could tell was fond and really not unkind at all. 

“So, without further ado, everyone reach into your pockets and pull out the characters you’ve been assigned!” Luna clapped her hands excitedly. Harry watched as his classmates, with looks of curiosity, reached into their pockets and found small folded cards that were not there before. He glanced over at Hermione’s card and saw “Lady Capulet” written on it in neat script. He looked to his other side to try and read Malfoy’s card, but the Slytherin boy quickly pressed the card against his chest with a taunting smirk. Harry rolled his eyes and reached into his own pocket, pulling the card out.

“Benvolio”. Huh, Harry could live with that. He couldn’t say he exactly remembered much about Benvolio’s character, but as long as he wasn’t Romeo, he could cope. He caught Malfoy trying to sneak a peak at his card and mimicked the other boy’s actions, quickly flattening it against his chest to hide the writing with a cheeky grin. Malfoy sneered and turned away.

Across the room, Neville was jumping out of his seat with excitement and Harry was happy for him, whatever he had gotten.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Ron was staring down at his card with a look of betrayal and horror.

“What is it?” Harry asked, craning his neck to get a look at his friend’s card.

“Friar Laurence,” Hermione read for him. “Really, Ronald, that’s not so bad!”

“He doesn’t even get a sword,” Ron moaned,  flopping dramatically in his chair.

“Maybe you ought’ve been Romeo, mate, you’ve got a flair for drama,” Harry suggested. Ron folded up his card and flicked it at Harry’s head.

“Okay!” Luna called everyone’s attention back to her on the stage. “I want us all to have a look at our cast now! So, when I call out your character, please stand up.” Luna smiled. “All right, first we have the parts of Romeo and Juliet.”

Neville stood proudly from his chair. Everyone looked around the room for a Juliet to stand, but no girls stood. Luna continued to grin.

“I’ll be playing Juliet,” she announced. Neville looked like he had just been handed an entire gallon of felix felicis. The crowd applauded their leads, and Neville took his seat again. Luna called out a few more characters, family members and nurses, and Harry mostly tuned her out. 

“Benvolio and Mercutio!” She called out. Harry rose to his feet and felt someone rising right along with him. He turned and looked wide-eyed at Malfoy, who looked wide-eyed right back at him. “Fabulous!” Luna said, before continuing down the list. Harry and Malfoy sat, both still staring at each other.

“Well,” Malfoy said finally. “You better not bugger this up and make me look like a fool on stage.”

Harry rolled his eyes, then suddenly remembered something about Mercutio that made him grin wickedly and lean in closer to Malfoy.

“Y’know, they say Mercutio was a flaming queer.” Malfoy reared back and looked at Harry with an unreadable expression. A smirk slowly spread its way across his features as he leaned back in, even closer than before so that he and Harry were practically cheek to cheek.

“Well, as long as we’re staying true to character, you know what else they say, don’t you?” Malfoy’s breath fanned across Harry’s face. Unable to do anything else in the compromising position, he shook his head in a very small motion.

He could practically feel the smirk spreading wider across Malfoy’s face.

“They say,” he drawled. “That he was shagging Benvolio.” 

Now it was Harry’s turn to rear back. With some more distance between himself and Malfoy now, the other sounds of the auditorium came back to him as Luna prattled on and other cast members stood up. Harry shook his head, feeling like he was clearing a fog from his brain.

“You’re vile, Malfoy.”

Malfoy just laughed and cocked his head to the side, looking at Harry like he were some strange problem he were analyzing. Harry turned quickly back to the front of the room and paid attention, perhaps a bit too vigilantly, as Luna told them all about the rehearsal schedule.

“All right, Harry?” Hermione asked as they filed out of the auditorium together.

“‘All right?’” Ron wailed. “‘All right?’ she asks! No it is not ‘all right’, how could anything be ‘all right’? This is going to be a disaster!”

Harry didn’t disagree with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first week of rehearsals

At the first full cast rehearsal, they run through the entire play from start to finish. It’s exhausting, but necessary so that Ginny can start working out ideas for ‘blocking’ - which Malfoy explained to Harry just meant that she was figuring out where everyone was going to be entering, exiting, standing, and walking while onstage. When Harry had asked Malfoy how he knew that, Malfoy had just gone all pink and sputtered and insisted that everyone knew that, and then he had walked away.

Ginny was assigned to be the director, while Luna would be the producer of the show. Harry was immensely jealous of Ginny’s job. When he had caught up with her at the first rehearsal and asked what part she was playing, she had just beamed and showed him her card. 

“I guess the voices in Luna’s head knew what a shite actor I am,” she had joked. 

Obviously not, Harry thought, or they would’ve made his card say “Just leave, idiot”, or something to that effect.

“Who are they supposed to be?” Harry leaned over and whispered to Malfoy while they were watching the run-through of the play from the audience. Up on stage, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein were talking back and forth in what Harry figured was probably very clever dialogue, if he had actually understood any of this old English. 

“Gregory and Sampson,” Malfoy whispered back. “Servants of the Capulet house. That’s Juliet’s family. They’re really only in this first scene but - oh, oh look, watch!” Malfoy sat forward in his seat excitedly as Crabbe and Goyle entered the stage and began what looked like an argument with Terry and Anthony’s characters.

“Abraham and Balthasar of the Montague house,” Malfoy pointed out without Harry even having to ask. 

“Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them if they bear it.” Terry declared. He looked a bit confused for a moment before shrugging and sticking his thumb right in his mouth.

Harry pinched his own leg to keep from bursting into laughter and disrupting the scene (and thus, incurring the wrath of Ginny, which he was not eager to do).

“Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?” Crabb demanded in, actually, not bad acting. 

“I do bithe my thum, thir,” Terry answered. 

“Perhaps without the thumb still in your mouth, eh Boot?” Ginny called.

“Oh, right. I do bite my thumb at you, sir!”

Harry couldn’t help himself as he broke into a fit of laughter, desperately trying to muffle it behind his hand as the show carried on onstage. It was all just a bit ridiculous he thought, but not in a bad way. It was interesting, to say the least. He looked over and found Malfoy watching him with an amused expression.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, trying to quell his laughter.

“No need to apologize, this scene is meant to be comical. Shakespeare did have quite the sense of humor, you know.”

“The thumb biting, that just did it for me,” Harry admitted with more laughter as he recalled the scene. Malfoy, to Harry’s immense surprise, grinned at him.

“It’s the highest form of insult, or didn’t you know?” Malfoy asked, but he didn’t actually sound like he was condescending Harry. Was he…was he teasing Harry? Like, a joke?

On stage, Terry loudly stated: “Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow,” and Malfoy was shoving at Harry’s shoulder.

“That’s your cue! Go on!” Malfoy wasn’t even looking at his script, Harry realized belatedly as he jogged up on to the stage.

“Erm,” Harry fumbled with his script. “Part, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do.” And then Dean was entering the stage as some guy named Tybalt and he and Harry went back and forth for a few lines. Then, written in the stage directions were the words, _They fight_. 

Harry and Dean both looked up from their scripts and met each other’s eyes at the same time. There was a brief flicker of a smile on both of their faces before they pounced at each other.

The rest of the cast erupted into cheers and shouts of encouragement as he and Dean wrestled each other across the stage, breathless with laughter. He was vaguely aware of Ginny shouting at them to pull it together. Finally, he and Dean parted, Dean holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet. They grinned at each other like morons and the rest of the scene passed in a blur, as Harry read his many lines practically on autopilot.

Later, when he returned to his seat in the audience alongside Malfoy, the blonde boy looked at him with an almost-smile. “Good show, Benvolio. You and Thomas really had each other going there.”

Harry surprised himself by laughing, and settling back comfortably in his chair. He wondered just how long he and Malfoy could keep this civility up.

* * *

The answer to that question was ‘not long’.

After a few more of his scenes with Neville, Harry found himself onstage alongside Malfoy. Everything began just fine, and Harry found himself actually quite impressed with the smooth, rich way that Malfoy spoke his lines. Old English was practically a second language to him, and his words carried boldly throughout the auditorium. 

Soon enough though, things went to shit.

It started with:

“The date is out of such proximity -“

“ _Proxility_ , Potter.”

Harry frowned down at his script. “That isn’t a word.”

“Well that’s your line, so just say it!”

“Fine.”

And then:

“Come knock and enter; and no sooner in -“

“ _Potter_ , you dolt, you skipped my line. Wait your turn!”

“Oh, sorry.”

Next it was a matter of:

“If love be blind - “

“That is _my_ line!”

Harry just sighed heavily.

And finally:

“Potter, just where do you think you’re going!?”

“The script says to ‘exeunt’, which I’m pretty sure means ‘exit’. So I’m exiting. You’re supposed to come, too.”

“And just how do you expect me to do that? I’m dying, here!”

“Oh. Well. Good.”

“ _Potter_! I said ‘Help me into some house, Benvolio’. Did you not hear me?” Malfoy demanded petulantly.

“Oh, for the love of - fine!” Harry snapped, hauling Malfoy to his feet and then slinging the lean boy over his shoulder. It was really a good thing Malfoy was so light - not as light as Harry expected, but he could still lift him no problem. Malfoy shouted indignantly for Harry to put him down ‘this instant!’, while pounding at his back with his fists, but Harry ignored him, trudging off stage to the sounds of the rest of the cast cheering and catcalling.

Once they were backstage, Harry dumped Malfoy unceremoniously on the ground and gave him a shit-eating grin.

“You are such a barbarian.” Malfoy clambered to his feet and shot Harry a withering glare.

“I think the words you were looking for are, ‘Benvolio, my good man, thank you ever so for carrying my extremely pointy arse to safety. I owe you my life.’” 

“Mercutio dies now.”

“Oh. So sorry.” Harry pat him on the shoulder sympathetically. Malfoy rolled his eyes and brushed Harry’s hand off of himself, but Harry could almost swear he saw a flicker of a smile.

“You’re back on soon, moron.” Malfoy pointed out. “And seeing as I’m dead now, I think I’ll take my leave. I can only handle so much of your infuriating presence in one day.” He turned to walk away. “And my arse is not pointy!” he called over his shoulder.

Harry walked back on stage to announce Mercutio’s death, while wondering how long it would be before he or Malfoy _actually_ killed each other.

* * *

Besides having three all cast rehearsals per week, certain groups or pairs of people who had a lot of scenes together were also assigned to do smaller rehearsals once a week. Harry, Neville, and Malfoy were given such an assignment, but Neville was working with Luna at the same time, so for most of their first solo rehearsal, Harry and Malfoy were left to their own devices.

They sat on the stage together, Harry cross-legged and Malfoy on his back with his knees cross and his hands behind his head, the perfect picture of pompous grace.

“This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.” Harry flipped through his script trying to find the next place he needed to read. 

“You can skip the next few scenes,” Malfoy drawled lazily, eyes closed ever since he died. “It’s only Juliet, her nurse, Romeo, and the Friar.” Malfoy’s script was laying closed across his chest. Harry frowned.

“Do you already have the whole bloody thing memorized?” Malfoy’s eyes blinked open.

“I’m…familiar with the work.” Malfoy tried very obviously to come off as casual. “I like to read, and Shakespeare was one of the greatest wizards of all time.”

“That’s what my Uncle Remus says.”

Malfoy closes his eyes again. “Well then, your Uncle Remus is a brilliant man.”

“That’s what my Uncle Sirius says,” Harry grinned. The corners of Malfoy’s lips twitched.

“You are such a swot,” Harry informs him. Malfoy doesn’t grace him with a response and they sit in what Harry would almost call companionable silence - Malfoy halfway dozing and Harry…totally not watching him. Because obviously he had better things to do. He just couldn’t come up with any in that particular moment.

Neville returned a few minutes later, and they began all over again.

* * *

At the next all cast rehearsal, Ron tried to kill Malfoy. 

Luna had somehow arranged to borrow a bunch of old fashioned lances for the cast to use in their show. They were used with caps on the end to keep any serious maiming from happening, but considering who she was giving them to, it really should have been expected that things wouldn’t stay safe for long.

Harry wasn’t there for the actual argument, he heard later that it had something to do with Malfoy insulting Ron’s family’s hygiene, but the next thing he knew, Ron had let out a battle cry and was now charging right at Malfoy with a very much not capped lance that he must’ve stolen from another cast member, because Friars did not carry lances.

Malfoy, luckily, had his own lance on him and deflected Ron’s attack a bit jiltedly. It was very apparent to anyone watching that the two boys actually had no idea what they were doing with a pair of swords, but as with everything else in their lives, Ron was making up for skill with enthusiasm, and Malfoy was using his quick thinking to adapt to the situation.

Clearly not quick enough, because Ron was advancing steadily on him, and before anyone could stop it, Ron had Malfoy backed against the wall with his lance pointed threateningly into his sternum. Malfoy was breathing quickly from the exertion of their fight, but other than the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he was perfectly still. Ron was snarling, pressing forward more and more as each second ticked by. Hermione was screaming at him somewhere in the background, but Ron was in his own world at this point.

Harry stepped between them before he was even really sure what he was doing.

Ron’s eyes widened as he suddenly found himself stabbing his own best friend in the heart and Harry could hear Malfoy draw in a sharp breath from very close behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ron pulled his lance back quickly, and Harry let out a large breath.

“Merlin, Ron, do you have any idea what would happen to you if you killed Malfoy? They’d send you straight to Azkaban!” Ron’s eyes slowly cleared. “It’s not worth it, mate.” More quietly. Ron took a step back and lowered his weapon completely, nodding his head in some kind of daze.

Harry was about to turn and accept his gracious ‘thank you’ from Malfoy, when he found himself unable to move as something very sharp and cold pressed against the side of his throat. Several wisps of blonde hair tickled his cheek as Malfoy leaned in alongside his lance and growled very lowly, “I don’t need you to save me, Potter.”

“Yeah, looked like you really had that situation all under control,” Harry breathed, wondering if this would be the moment that one of them finally snapped. After what felt like an eternity, Malfoy lowered the sword and stormed away, leaving Harry and Ron staring at each other in bewilderment.

“He’s mental,” Ron shook his head. “Absolutely mental!”

“You’re one to talk, Zorro.” Harry chuckled and swung an arm around Ron’s shoulders. It was a muggle film they had watched with Hermione a few summers ago in her basement while her parents made them popcorn and ice cream sundaes. It was one of Harry’s best memories. 

Ron laughed and let himself be led away easily, but when Harry turned around he saw Malfoy looking after them with a look that Harry didn’t get a chance to read before Malfoy caught him looking and scowled, looking spectacularly angry and smothering any other emotion that might have been there.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed! Let me know if you all liked it, and feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://a-little-unsteadyy.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry really shouldn't want to be Malfoy's friend, ft. all four of his parents

The week following the incident was awkward at best. Malfoy’s ego was clearly so bruised by Harry saving him from being turned into a kebab that he couldn’t even stand to look at him. Or speak to him. Or generally be in his presence unless absolutely necessary.

Malfoy no longer sat with Harry in the audience as they waited for their scenes to come up, which was really unfortunate if only for the fact that Harry now never had any idea what was going on onstage. When he’d lean over and ask Ron, the boy would either be out cold or even more confused than Harry. He really kind of missed Malfoy’s helpful commentary, the excited way he talked about the scenes and actually somehow made Shakespeare seem interesting. Malfoy barely looked at Harry as they exchanged lines onstage. The most contact they had was when Benvolio had to drag Mercutio’s nearly lifeless body offstage. 

Whatever semblance of friendship they had been slowly inching towards in the first week was very thoroughly shattered.

Not that Harry minded. He shouldn’t mind. Not at all, which was why he totally didn’t. Malfoy was a total prick, no amount of not-terrible moments could make up for all of the terrible moments he had over the years. And besides, it was a total betrayal of his friendship with Ron to try and befriend his mortal enemy. So this was fine, Harry reasoned, this was how it should be.

And he didn’t miss Malfoy’s smile one bit.

So, having resigned himself to never ever being friends with Draco Malfoy, Harry was very surprised when, after a week of not even tolerating his existence, Malfoy sort of kind of apologized to him.

They had just finished an incredibly awkward and stilted solo practice of just the two of them, sitting tensely a few feet apart on the stage, when Malfoy stopped him before he could leave. It was just the two of them in the auditorium which was why Harry figured Malfoy had chosen that moment to talk to him. There weren’t very many times when they were alone.

“I’m -“ Malfoy ran a hand through his hair, the blonde strands falling right back into place. “I didn’t mean to react the way I did. When you kept your deranged troll of a friend from skewering me. So. There it is.” Malfoy spread his hands wide like he had just presented Harry with a grand gesture instead of some half-formed apology. Harry decided that he would accept it as good enough.

“S’alright. You weren’t thinking clearly. Probably pretty scared, huh?” Harry teased, testing the new boundaries of their…not friendship. Malfoy snorted delicately.

“As if. If I ever meet a worse swordsman than Weasel, I’ll run the fucking lance through my chest myself.”

“Then you may want to avoid looking into mirrors, Malfoy.” 

Malfoy’s eyes widened fractionally at Harry’s comeback and he feared for a second that he had pushed Malfoy too far, when suddenly the other boy tossed his head back and laughed in such a shocked, unguarded way that Harry couldn’t look away, not even for a second. Malfoy’s lips stretched full and wide around a set of very straight, very white teeth and his eyes crinkled in the corners. It was…captivating, Harry’s brain settled on. Shocking, even. That was probably it. It was so shocking to see Malfoy look like an actual person enjoying life that he just _had_ to stare.

“Merlin, Potter,” Malfoy breathed as his laughter died out. He clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “That was actually a very good one.” And then, like a breeze, he was gone, calling an almost cheerful ‘see you tomorrow!’ over his shoulder.

Harry hadn’t moved an inch since Malfoy’s laugh. He didn’t know exactly what it was that was happening inside of him, but he did know one thing for sure.

He really, _really_ wanted to be Malfoy’s friend. Which was terrifying enough to think about without letting any other unfiltered, creeping thoughts about Malfoy into his conscious mind.

Harry wanted to see Malfoy laugh more, wanted unguarded smiles and touches and easy banter without any death threats. But Harry also wanted Ron to not punch him in the nose. Now, he just had to figure out which one he wanted more.

But he was already pretty positive he knew.

* * *

“Have you seen Seamus? We’re on in ten minutes and he _promised_ we could go over lines beforehand! I swear, if he’s off fooling around with Dean when he knows we’re supposed to be practicing -“ Hermione broke off with a huff and looked at Harry expectantly.

“Haven’t seen him, sorry. But I did see Dean heading for the props room.” Harry pointed in the general direction and Hermione thanked him before storming away.

“How long until she nags Finnegan straight into his grave, do you think?” Malfoy asked with raised eyebrows from his seat next to Harry. Harry grinned.

“I give it 48 more hours,” he answered at the same time as Ron said, “Watch it, that’s my girlfriend!” from the seat on the other side of him. Malfoy’s lips twitched into a grin and Harry turned quickly to apologize to Ron.

Ron just glared suspiciously at him and Malfoy the rest of the day. From that point on, Harry tried to make a point of not acting too friendly with Malfoy with Ron was within earshot. 

He could admit that he was failing spectacularly. 

It was getting bad enough at practice, with Harry and Malfoy seeming to seek each other out at every possible second. They did so under the guise of practicing lines, but any work they started to do quickly morphed into poking fun at whoever was running lines onstage at the moment, or Malfoy giving Harry interesting facts about the play. Sometimes they hid at the back of the auditorium in the darkness and played exploding snap by the light of one of their wands until Ginny started shrieking for one or both of them to get their asses on stage.

But now, it was starting to translate outside of the auditorium. Malfoy sent him stupid notes in advanced potions class and sometimes even paired up with him if Blaise had slept in that day. Harry told Ron that it was only because they both needed partners, and Ron needed Hermione to help him and Harry could use the extra help Malfoy provided, as well. Ron didn’t look like he believed him even a little bit.

A few days later at dinner, Harry had glanced across the Great Hall at the Slytherin table and was oddly pleased to catch Malfoy’s eye almost instantly. Malfoy grinned at him, slow and secretive and then parted his lips and bit his thumb.

It took a few moments for the action to catch up with Harry, being too focused on Malfoy _biting his thumb,_ when the symbolism became very clear and Harry nearly spilled his pumpkin juice as he doubled over in laughter. Hermione grabbed the glass and set it upright quickly while Ron followed Harry’s line of sight and scowled. Malfoy had looked away now, but still had his thumb caught between his teeth as he stared resolutely down at the table with a grin threatening to take over his features. Harry couldn’t stop smiling.

“You and Malfoy seem to be getting awfully chummy there, eh, Harry?” Ron accused with finger jabbing at Harry’s chest. Harry calmly pushed his finger away, having anticipated this conversation for almost a week now.

“Yes, Ron, I’d say we are.” Ron’s face had gone a shade of red that clashed horribly with his hair.

“But, what, _how? Why?_ ”

“He’s really not so bad,” Harry explained. “I think you two could really get on just fine if you’d give up on your childish grudges and -“

“ _Childish?_ ” Ron gasped. “Malfoy and I are sworn enemies from our birth to our death!”

“Yeah, but, why?”

Ron stopped raging and stared at Harry blankly.

“Why?”

“Yeah, Ron, why? Why do you and Malfoy have to be enemies?”

Ron turned away and crossed his arms more tightly. “We just _do!_ ” he insisted stubbornly.

“I really think that-“

“Well _I_ think that you and Malfoy can go suck each other’s cocks at the bottom of the lake for all I care!” Ron stood quickly, grabbed a roll for the road, and stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Hermione staring awkwardly down at their plates.

“He’ll come around,” she said quietly. “I don’t think Malfoy is so bad either, really. And you seem to, erm, like him a lot?” She said slowly.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s a pretty cool mate.” Harry shrugged, tips of his ears heating up at the suggestive tone of Hermione’s words.

“Right,” Hermione began. “But what if you-“

“Merlin, what was he so worked up about? I thought he was gonna burst into flames for a second there!” Ginny plopped down beside Harry, jerking her thumb in the direction that Ron had stormed out in.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. Hermione and Ginny both gave him strange looks before Hermione stood to leave.

“I’m going to go check on him.” 

And then it was just Harry and Ginny.

Harry and Ginny, who was sitting so close to him that he could feel her thigh rubbing against his. Ginny shot him a bright grin and Harry smiled back, for some reason finding himself looking back over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy didn’t meet his gaze again, so Harry settled in and listened to Ginny go on about the show and her classes and how lovely working with Luna was.

Harry nodded along, smiling in all the right places and nodding his head, but found himself unable to actually focus on a word Ginny was saying, which was really unfair to her, he thought, because Ginny was funny and brilliant and objectively very nice to look at but. Harry didn’t. Look, that is. Because she was Ginny Weasley and he loved her like a sister and she loved him like a…well. Harry didn’t know what she loved him like, but he had a few guesses.

He was lucky, he thought, that Ginny loved him. He should consider himself a lucky, lucky man to have her focus her attentions on him. 

But he could just feel that Ginny wasn’t the right girl. He hadn’t met any right girls yet, if he was being honest.

Harry kept glancing over to the Slytherin table for reasons he couldn’t name.

* * *

“Harry!” A chorus of exuberant voices greeted him from the fireplace.

“Hi Mum, hi Dad,” Harry chuckled, positioning himself so he could comfortably lean into the call.

“Oi, don’t forget about us!” A familiar voice called from the background, hidden by James and Lily’s faces pressed close together. 

“Hi Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus,” Harry greeted his parents’ friends as well.

“Oh my baby boy,” Lily looked dangerously close to tears. “You look so old! I can’t believe it’s already your last year at Hogwarts! Next thing you know you’re gonna be, gonna be moving out and getting a job and getting _married,_ oh and then you’ll never come back to visit because you’ll be too busy with your great, exciting life and I’ll just miss you so much, sweetie!” Lily now _did_ actually break into tears, tucking her head into James’ shoulder as he looked down on her with a fond, but exasperated expression.

“Muuuum,” Harry whined, looking around the common room to make sure no one was around. “You’re being silly, Mum, I’ve only been gone a few weeks! And before you know it, it’ll be Christmas hols and I’ll be home. And not married. And not abandoning you.” Harry promised.

“Honestly Lils, you act like you’ll be all alone when Harry’s grown up!” James looked affronted.

“Yeah, you’ll still have us!” Sirius crowed from the background.

“I don’t think that’s helping, love,” Remus’ more collected voice said calmly.

“We’re never getting rid of them. Ever. Are we?” Lily asked James with a sigh.

“Never.” James promised, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

“Well, darling, tell us about everything! How are your classes going? How are Ron and Hermione? Did you get my owl last week?” Lily was back to her bright energetic self in seconds and Harry felt a rush of homesickness hit him like a bludger to the solar plexus as he watched his parents and his uncles bantering.

“Everything’s been great, Mum, really.” Harry then proceed to tell his family in what was probably excruciating detail everything that had happened in the past few weeks. He just wanted to prolong the end of the conversation, if he was being honest with himself.

“That sounds wonderful! A drama club at Hogwarts.” Remus sighed wistfully. “I wish we had had one of those when we were there.”

“Of course you do, you lovely, poncey man,” Sirius grinned, shoving up into his space. Remus batted him away and rolled his eyes.

“It’s my turn at the front, wait in line,” Remus shoved a bit harder. “Now then,” he turned back to Harry. “What play is it?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” Harry replied, expecting his uncle’s reaction before it even came. Remus’ face lit up like a Christmas tree and he immediately began gushing about Shakespeare and poetry and symbolism and a bunch of other stuff that reminded Harry warmly of Malfoy’s lectures.

“Did you know that when Shakespeare died, the only thing he left to his wife was-“

“His second best bed?” Harry interrupted with a grin. Remus looked shocked. 

“Well - yes. Yes, that’s it.” 

“How did you know that?!” James shouted, pushing his face into view and glaring at Remus. “Have you been teaching my son _Shakespeare_ behind my back? Treason, Moony!”

“I did no such thing!” Remus huffed. “I tried a few times, to be honest, but he was never all that interested.” Remus tilted his head to the side and eyed Harry curiously. “But he seems to be interested now.”

Harry felt himself flush bright red and was glad that no one on the other side of the fire call could see it. “Malfoy told me that, actually. He knows an awful lot about Shakespeare, probably almost as much as you.”

“Malfoy? You mean Lucius’ son?” James squinted. “I didn’t know you were friends.”

“Malfoy!” Sirius squawked. “Swine! Loathsome swine! Batty, malicious, cruel, scoundrels! The absolute dredges of humanity, the - ow! What was that for, Lily?”

“The Malfoys are perfectly decent people now, have been for years. And I’m sure they raised their son to be a very wonderful person. Right, Harry?” 

Harry’s flush increased about tenfold.

“Er, yeah, wonderful.”

“Malfoys are not ‘decent’!” Sirius objected. “Lucius Malfoy tried to _drown_ me! Or have you traitorous bastards all forgotten?”

“Sirius, he pushed you in a pool. And you can swim.” Remus looked like he was suppressing a laugh.

“He didn’t know that!”

James snorted with laughter, then said: “Can’t be too mad, Pads. You’ve got such an excellent doggy paddle.” This prompted everyone to break into raucous laughter, Sirius grumbling around his chuckles. Harry didn’t really get the joke, but their warm laughter was a welcome sound.

“Well he was also a cretin because he hung around with Snivell-“

“Sirius!”

“OUCH, Lily!”

“What have we said about speaking poorly of Harry’s professors in front of him?” Lily turned her glaring face from Sirius and smiled at Harry. “So are the two of you good mates, then? You and Draco, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, we’re, um, we’ve gotten quite close, I s’pose,” Harry shrugged, carefully watching his Uncle Sirius’ reaction. Sirius was just about the coolest person Harry had ever met in his entire life, had looked up to him for as long as he could remember. If there was one person in the world he could choose to end up like one day, he’d always choose Sirius in a heartbeat. He was charming and funny and devilishly handsome and he was so, so happy with Remus. He had the perfect life, as far as Harry was concerned, which was why it always made it hard for him to disagree with Sirius.

Which Sirius full well knew.

Sirius caught Harry’s eye and sighed heavily, running a hand through his unruly black curls and grinning up reassuringly at his godson. “If you like him, I’m sure he’s a great guy. Malfoy or not.” Lily whacked him upside the head one last time.

“You are such a pain, Pads,” James grumbled, shoving back into view with Lily at his side once more. Harry smiled at his parents and they beamed back at him.

“So, everything’s going alright, love? You’re quite happy, aren’t you?”

“Really happy, Mum,” Harry promised, purposefully neglecting to mention his row with Ron.

“Tell us more about this play then, huh?” James prodded. Harry could see Remus nodding excitedly in the background, tucked tight under Sirius’ arm.

So Harry told them about it all, and if he mentioned Malfoy’s name more times than he could count then, well, who was counting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'll be trying to update at least every Sunday from this point on, so be on the lookout for that!
> 
> Comment and let me know what you think and as always, come by and hang out with me on [tumblr](http://a-little-unsteadyy.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flight of the Hippogriff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was considering cutting this chapter in half because it's as long as the first 3 chapters put together but I couldn't find a good place to split it so... surprise! Extra long chapter woo

Life without best friends, Harry quickly realized, was quite lonely. 

Ron still hadn’t spoken to him in a little over a week, and being his girlfriend, Hermione had reluctantly remained by his side, throwing Harry these little apologetic looks across the room whenever Ron wasn’t looking. Sure, he had Neville, Dean, and Seamus to sit with at lunch and sometimes he and Ginny would go out and practice quidditch together (though he was trying to minimize their alone time together as of recently, so as not to give her any misleading ideas). And sure, he had Cedric and Cho to study with (they were two of the smartest people he knew, even if third wheeling was starting to get a bit old). And of course, he had Malfoy to keep him company at rehearsals, but somehow even surrounded by all these great people, he was still lonely.

Because none of them were Ron and Hermione.

“I know it’s in a few weeks, but I just want to remind everyone to enjoy their Christmas hols, but not forget to study your lines! It would be so splendid if everyone could be off-book by the new year!” Luna announced at an all cast practice one afternoon. At the mention of the holiday, Harry got a feeling like a hand gripping his throat tightly.

His family always went to the Burrow for Christmas day. He looked instinctively over at Ron, but the red-headed boy just scowled and stubbornly looked in the other direction.

The grip around his throat tightened.

Harry wondered how he’d explain to his family that they weren’t invited this year if he and Ron didn’t make up by then. His dad and Sirius would be disappointed, surely, that they wouldn’t get to scheme with the twins and pass on words of wisdom and advice for new gags for the shop. Oh, and Remus would be crushed that he’d be missing Molly’s bread pudding, would probably never forgive Harry again. But his mum, oh Merlin his mum would go absolutely _mental_ if she found out she was going to miss out on seeing Bill and Fleur’s new baby girl and so then they’d all just spend Christmas hols miserably staring at each other and hating Harry (including himself).

Harry felt his head starting to grow uncomfortably hot and he thought his breathing might’ve gone a bit ragged and Ron wouldn’t even look at him and was the air pressure dropping in here? How quickly could he excuse himself from this situation without drawing too much attention to himself? Oh Merlin, would Ron laugh him right out of the auditorium? Would Hermione even care? Harry began to look around to see if anyone was watching him, if anyone would notice him slip away to bury himself in the warm, wool comforter on his bed and never ever come out. 

An elbow nudged him gently in the ribs, breaking Harry out of his thoughts, and he found Malfoy looking at him with an expression bordering on concern. “Alright?” Malfoy asked quietly. Harry’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, and miraculously, the thoughts stampeding around his head went quiet. This was something of a new territory for himself and Malfoy - talking about personal things - but there was a calm and a comfort in Malfoy at this moment that Harry desperately needed.

“Not particularly,” Harry answered honestly. Malfoy nodded his head knowingly.

“You’ve been sulking lately. You’re not nearly as entertaining when you sulk.”

Harry snorted. “Sorry ‘bout that, I’d sure hate for my shitty mood to ruin your fun.” 

Malfoy made an exasperated sound and pressed a finger to his temple. “That’s not what I meant. I only meant to say that I’ve _noticed._ You and Weasel have been very bloody obviously dancing around each other all week. Trouble in paradise, then?” Harry nodded and Malfoy pressed his lips together tightly. “I suppose you have me to thank for that.”

And the thing was, Malfoy looked like he was actually _sorry_ about it. Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with a repentant Draco Malfoy, but he was quite sure that he didn’t like the downcast, guilty look of his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” Harry said quickly. “I mean, it’s my decision who I want to be friends with, not Ron’s. He’s just being an arse right now.”

Malfoy shot him a crooked grin. “We’re friends, then, huh?” 

Harry laughed, feeling lighter than he had in a while, and shoved at his shoulder. “Tosser.” Malfoy’s expression grew serious.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry for whatever role I played in this. I’ve never seen the two of you so miserable. It’s honestly as though you can’t function without being attached at the hip.”

“Well then, maybe it’s good for us to get a little space from each other,” Harry said before he realized the truth of his words. He clearly shocked Malfoy, too, whose eyebrows crept up his forehead. “I do miss him, though. The stupid wanker.” Harry followed up with another look towards Ron, who was staring resolutely in the other direction, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looked a bit pouty, and for the first time Harry realized that, even though Ron had Hermione, this whole situation was probably just as difficult for him. Malfoy watched the exchange with a derisive snort.

“Bloody stubborn Gryffindors.” Malfoy shook his head. Harry tried to force himself to smile, but it must’ve looked pretty terrible because Malfoy added: “If the pair of you don’t work this out yourselves, I’ll work it out between the two of you myself, if only to get those pathetically tragic looks off your faces,” he offered, rolling his eyes in exaggerated disgust, but Harry could still hear the sincerity in his words.

“Yeah, I can just imagine how well Ron would take _you_ telling him what to do.”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll do just that,” Malfoy sniffed. He looked over at Harry and a sly smile spread across his face. “Want to hide in the wings and scare the fourth-years?” 

And so they did just that.

At the end of practice, while Harry was packing up his things, Hermione slipped past him and whispered: “He’ll get over it soon, I promise.” Harry watched her hurry to catch up with Ron, curly hair bouncing along behind her, and felt like he could breathe a little easier. Hermione was very rarely wrong.

As Harry stood there staring after the two of them, Malfoy stopped on his way out and turned back to Harry, grabbing his elbow and squeezing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? And do try to cheer up by then. ‘Melancholy’ is not a good look on you.” Malfoy smirked at him, then strolled out of the auditorium, not even waiting for him to respond.

Harry took a very deep breath of air.

* * *

Harry woke up the next afternoon very late for play practice and _very_ pissed off at Ron.

The night before he had been kept up by very strange dreams of Ron and Malfoy - drowning. He was walking down by the lake when he heard splashing in the water, so he ran down and saw them both on opposite sides of the lake, sputtering and coughing and flailing, all while the Giant Squid crept closer and closer, tentacles looming like dark shadows just at the water’s edge. There was no way Harry could swim fast enough to reach them both, and he couldn’t find his bloody wand, so he just jumped in and started to swim, chest heaving and legs feeling heavy as cement. 

He woke up, lungs feeling like they were full of water, and unable to remember who he had tried to save - if he had actually saved either of them at all. He gasped for air for a few minutes, sitting up in bed with a hand clutched to his chest as he told himself, _It was just a dream, it was just a dream, Ron and Malfoy are alright, you’re alright,_ over and over again in his head. He listened carefully to see if he had woken Ron up, only heard deep breathing from the bed opposite his. It was a good twenty minutes before Harry calmed back down enough to curl up under his covers again. It was another ten minutes before he heard Ron’s snoring start back up.

Harry hadn’t been able to fall back asleep after that.

Which was why, after his classes finished that day, he had returned to the sweet, sweet solace of his bed and settled in for a much needed nap. Ron was in the room as well, sprawled out on his own bed with the newest edition of _Quidditch Quarterly_ spread out in front of him. Ron had spared him only the smallest glance over top of the magazine, but Harry was too tired to even feel that bad about it. He was too tired to really do little more than drag his feet to the edge of his bed, fling his glasses onto his nightstand, and flop onto the mattress, not even bothering to pull back the blankets. He was asleep almost as soon as his head made contact.

When he woke up two hours later, feeling as disoriented as if he’d been hit with a _Stupefy,_ he realized that Ron, _that absolute TOSSER,_ had left for practice without so much as throwing a quill at Harry’s head to wake him up.

Harry had shed his school robes in record time, tugging on a pair of well-worn jeans and light blue t-shirt that he was pretty sure was clean, and sprinted towards the auditorium. He had a lot of lines, especially in the beginning, and though he was almost positive he had already missed most of his part, he didn’t want to completely let Luna down by not showing up at all. 

He skidded around a corner, barely dancing his way around a group of third-year Hufflepuffs, and thudded right into a very familiar, very solid, _very_ unhappy chest. If chests could be unhappy, that was. 

“Mr. Potter!” Snape growled as Harry staggered back a few steps, holding his now sore nose. Snape loomed over him, tall and dark and imposing. “There is no running in the - “ But Harry didn’t have time to let his professor finish his sentence.

“I know, Professor! Ten points from Gryffindor!” Harry pivoted past Snape and continued down the hall at a brisk speed-walk.

“Twenty!” Snape called after him, and Harry rolled his eyes. Leave it to Snape to find any old reason to take extra points from him.

Harry burst through the doors of the auditorium, apology already spilling out of his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m sorry I’m -“ Harry heaved a breath and looked around the nearly empty auditorium. “-late.” He finished lamely. He stood confused in the doorway for a few moments before settling his attention on the only other person in the room. “Did I miss the whole practice?” he asked Malfoy, who was sitting casually at the edge of the stage, long legs dangling off the edge. He was kicking his feet back and forth in a manner that was oddly childlike.

“No practice today. Lovegood sent out a message to the entire cast. Said the cloud patterns were no good for the theatre today, so she cancelled.” Malfoy continued to kick his feet back and forth with a nonchalant expression.

“Oh. Then what are you doing here?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I knew you’d be late and probably forget to check your messages.”

“How did you know that?”

“You’re always late.” Malfoy smirked and leaned back on his elbows, stretching out his lean torso so that the edge of his white button down was barely skimming the top of his pants. Harry tore his eyes away from the sight, and was about to bite out a retort when he realized that Malfoy was right on every count, which was both annoying and endearing.

“So you came all the way down here…just to tell me there was no practice?” The tips of Malfoy’s ears went a bit pink. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

“No, I - well, I thought since practice is cancelled we could maybe go over our lines. Or something.” Malfoy snapped his mouth shut very quickly and looked away. 

“You want to go over lines… on our day off?” Harry asked, puzzled over Malfoy’s strange behavior.

“I don’t know,” Malfoy snapped. “Or something!” He let out a huff, not unlike the ones that Hermione always gave when Harry and Ron were being especially obtuse, and let his elbows give out so that he was laying with his back flat on the stage, legs still spilling over the edge.

Something clicked in Harry’s brain.

“Are you asking me to hang out with you, Malfoy?” He asked, both shocked and a bit giddy at the situation that was unfolding. Malfoy groaned dramatically and threw an arm over his eyes.

“Of course not,” he grumbled, unconvincingly. 

“You totally are,” Harry insisted, walking towards the stage. “You want to hang out with me.”

“I want you to drop dead.”

“Go on, say it. Say ‘Harry Potter, will you hang out with me?’”

“Harry Potter, will you dip yourself in a vat of boiling lava with me.”

“Not quite,” Harry stepped up onto the stage and kneeled over Malfoy’s head, where his face was still mostly covered by his arm.

“I’m not saying it,” Malfoy’s pink bottom lip jutted out petulantly.

“Fine then, I’ll just leave.” Malfoy’s arm moved so that his eyes were visible and they snapped open, zeroing in immediately on Harry’s face above him. Harry had the urge to say something stupid, like, “Hi”, or something equally ridiculous when Malfoy’s eyes met his.

“Don’t,” Malfoy groaned. “Alright, I’ll say it. Harry Bloody Potter, do you want to -“ Malfoy heaved a laborious sigh. “Do you want to hang out with me?”

“Like, outside of practice?”

“Yes.”

“Outside of classes?”

“Yes!”

“And you are under no spell that would compel you to want such a thing against your will?”

“Oh for the love of - _yes!_ Do you want to or not? Because if you don’t I can very easily find someone else who is more than willing to, and is probably much less annoying. And dresses better.” Malfoy was glaring witheringly up at Harry now, but hadn’t moved from his position on his back below him. His fair blonde hair was fanned out below him, the pieces that usually fell across his forehead falling back to reveal more of his face than Harry had seen since second or third year when he kept it all gelled back against his skull. He looked like some sort of - _some sort of stupid poncey prince, or something like that,_ Harry thought, quickly pushing 99% of his thoughts about Malfoy out of his mind. As he usually did.

“Yeah, I’d like to.” He said simply, smiling down at Malfoy. Something about it must have caught the other boy off guard, because the glare slipped right from his face, revealing something much more painfully open.

“Really? You - you want to?” Malfoy asked, sounding a bit more unsure now. “It was just an idea, you don’t have to.”

Harry wanted to laugh right in Malfoy’s face when the other boy implied that Harry might actually _not_ want to hang out with him. So he did.

This did not go over very well with Malfoy, who quickly pushed himself up from under Harry and rose to his feet. The glare was back, full-force. 

“Oh, fuck off, Potter,” Malfoy snapped, turning abruptly on his heels and starting to storm off the stage. 

“No, no, wait!” Harry scrambled to his feet and followed quickly after Malfoy. When he caught the other boy, he grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around without even really thinking about it. Malfoy didn’t pull away immediately like he expected, so he left his hands were they were, wrapped around Malfoy’s sharp shoulders and holding the boy to face him. Harry was absently aware of the fact that this was the most physical contact he and Malfoy had ever had.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Harry said, looking straight into Malfoy’s eyes, with as much sincerity as he could muster. “I just thought it was ridiculous, honestly, that you thought I would say no.” Malfoy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.” Harry promised. “Believe it or not, I actually find it extremely tolerable to be around you.” Malfoy’s face relaxed back into it’s natural, ~~stunning~~ expression.

“Well, I suppose I must believe you then. Being a bloody Gryffindor and all, that is.” Malfoy’s eyes took on the gleam that Harry came to know meant he was teasing. Harry grinned and removed his hands from Malfoy’s shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“So, what did you have in mind for this glorious ‘hang out’ of ours?” he ribbed. Malfoy shrugged his newly freed shoulders, looking a bit…bashful? Did Malfoys _get_ bashful?

“Nothing all that grand. It’s one of the last nice days of the season, though, which is why I suspect Lovegood actually cancelled practice, so I thought we could grab our brooms, go for a fly. Might be nice to get some fresh air, feel that rush of wind, far away from the castle and the ground- “ Malfoy broke off looking reverent, and Harry had a spectacular thought.

“I have another idea, actually. Fancy giving it a shot?” Malfoy looked a bit surprised at his sudden suggestion, but nodded his head all the same, and allowed Harry to lead him out of the castle.

* * *

“Harry!” Hagrid boomed cheerfully as he opened the door to his hut. “Good to see yeh lad! Come in, come in! - Oh.” Hagrid suddenly noticed Malfoy, hanging back a few feet behind Harry. “Well, then, er, you too, Malfoy.” Hagrid waved them both inside, giving Harry a curious look, but was too polite to say anything in Malfoy’s presence. 

Malfoy, for his part, looked painfully out of place in the dark, dirty hut. He looked like someone had spilled bleach on a dusty painting of - well, of Hagrid’s hut. His pale hair and crisp clothes practically glowed when surrounded by the stripped wood, dirt, and mud that made up Hagrid’s house. Harry never minded it, but was suddenly very aware of how pure-blood, social elite Draco Malfoy must be seeing the place.

Malfoy simply took a seat beside Harry at the table and rested his elbows right on it, not even checking to see if it left a dirty spot on the pristine white.

Harry and Hagrid chatted for a bit, catching up on their lives. Hagrid asked Harry about his classes and his family, while Harry asked him about the new things Hagrid had planned for their next Care of Magical Creatures class. Malfoy went uncharacteristically quiet during the exchange, staring down into his murky cup of tea.

Malfoy wasn’t in the Care of Magical Creatures class. His father refused to sign him up for it when the course began third year, claiming that Hagrid was unqualified for a position as a professor, and Malfoy had, just as loudly as his father, agreed. He told everyone he didn’t even want to take the class anyways and that it was probably a stupid waste of time.

Harry did always think that Malfoy was just a little too defensive about it, but he had never known him well enough or cared to ask how he really felt.

“So, Harry, not that I ain’t glad to see ya, but what brings ya down here?” Hagrid asked, as he was finishing his sixth biscuit. Malfoy looked like he’d also very much like to know the answer to that.

“Well, you see Malfoy here was thinking that with the weather as nice as it is, we might go for a fly.” Harry said the last part very deliberately, hoping Hagrid would catch on without ruining the surprise for Malfoy. From the slight widening of his eyes and glance over at Malfoy, Harry figured he got it. 

“Oh, well, I mean -“ Hagrid looked at Malfoy again. “Are ya sure?”

“Positive,” Harry nodded. “I think he’ll really love it.” Hagrid seemed a bit more comfortable after that and waved them off.

“Sure, sure! You know you’re always welcome to, um, fly ‘round here.” Hagrid chuckled. Malfoy thanked him politely for the tea and Hagrid shook his hand hard enough to nearly dislocate the blonde boy’s shoulder. Harry snickered and was about to follow him out the door.

“Er, Harry?”

Harry turned back around. “Yeah, Hagrid?” 

Hagrid glanced towards the door. “I don’t wanna be passin’ any unfair judgement or nothin’ like that. But, that Malfoy boy never really seemed like… like yer type of people. Yer sure about him?”

Harry looked through the doorway at Malfoy, basking in the early evening sunlight, eyes closed and head tipped back as the light breeze ruffled his fine, blonde hairs, a peaceful expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’m sure about him.”

* * *

Malfoy stood frozen about a yard away from the fenced in pen.

“Come on!” Harry called to him, but the blonde boy just continued to stare.

“What…are those?” He managed to ask in a hoarse voice. Harry turned and grinned.

“These are hippogriffs. And we’re gonna ride one.”

“Absolutely not.” Malfoy dug his heels into the ground.

Harry sighed heavily and ran a hand through his messy hair, probably making it stand even more on end. “It’s perfectly safe, I do it all the time.”

“What kind of a _nutter_ just goes around riding bloody _hippogriffs_ all the time?” Malfoy nearly shrieked. Harry pointed two thumbs at himself.

“You are ridiculous and insane and I’m leaving you here to die alone.” Malfoy declared, but did not move a muscle.

Harry watched the tense way Malfoy stood and figured that he should’ve seen something like this coming. Hippogriffs were big, and admittedly dangerous creatures when handled the wrong way. But…beyond the paralyzing fear, Harry could see this spark in Malfoy’s eyes. This sort of insane spark that told Harry that Malfoy wanted to do this, maybe even wanted to do it _more_ because it was scary. Harry could relate to the feeling.

“Draco Malfoy,” he said sternly. Malfoy’s eyes slid very quickly from the animals to Harry, and he realized he had never said Malfoy’s first name out loud before. “You get your swotty arse over here this instant if you know what’s good for you,” Harry commanded. He could’ve sworn he saw Malfoy’s eyes go dark, but when he blinked, they were back to normal. 

Malfoy walked very carefully towards him, stepping lightly across the forest floor. Harry whistled for Buckbeak and watched as a single white beast, greater than all the others in his opinion, walked right up to the fence and butted his head into Harry’s shoulder. Harry laughed and hugged Buckbeak around the neck, feeling the animal’s soft feathers tickle the side of his neck.

“Friend of yours?” Malfoy asked dryly, closer now. Harry turned to him with a grin.

“Malfoy, meet Buckbeak.”

“Charmed.”

“Buckbeak,” Harry gently nudged the creature’s large head up so that he was looking straight at Malfoy. “This is Malfoy. He is a complete git.” Buckbeak let out a disgruntled sounding snort and Harry watched as all the blood seemingly drained from Malfoy’s face. “But we like him anyways!” Harry amended hastily. Buckbeak calmed and dragged his front hoof gently through the dirt, cocking his head to the side as he continued to fix his beady eyes on Malfoy. “Ready?” Harry asked.

Malfoy broke his eye contact with Buckbeak and turned his gaze to Harry. “I’m going to die.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry said, and then he opened the pen and Buckbeak came canting out. He headed straight for Malfoy, stopping only a few yards away from him.

“Okay,” Harry said quietly, but letting his voice carry across to where Malfoy was standing. “This part is very important.”

“Why couldn’t you have told me this ‘very important’ information _before_ I was within maiming distance?” Malfoy hissed.

“Bow to him.” Malfoy’s gaze flickered hesitantly over to Harry and then back to Buckbeak. Buckbeak stared right back at Malfoy and the whole forest seemed to go still and silent. The sun had just started to set, and both Malfoy’s blonde hair and Buckbeak’s white feathers were tinted a rich shade of orange. Malfoy carefully put one foot further behind him and bent at the waist, bowing his head low.

Harry watched, holding his breath, as Buckbeak carefully analyzed Malfoy with his sharp gaze. He took his time staring at Malfoy, and Harry couldn’t say he blamed him. After what felt like an eternity, Buckbeak folded one of his legs at the knee and began to lower himself to the ground.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion from a nearby tree as a flock of crows took noisy, boisterous flight in a flurry of black with flashes of yellow, and everything went to hell.

Startled by the sound of the birds, Malfoy stood quickly, drawing himself to his full height. This, of course, did not please Buckbeak. The Hippogriff reared back on hind legs, kicking sharply taloned claws out in front of him, snarling and stamping as he now regarded Malfoy as a threat. 

“Fuck, Malfoy get down!” Harry shouted as Buckbeak started towards the blonde boy across the clearing at an alarmingly fast rate. Malfoy either hadn’t heard Harry or was too scared shitless to actually move, so before he could very thoroughly think through his plan, Harry was running straight for Malfoy, too.

Luckily, Harry was closer than Buckbeak and he reached Malfoy first. “I said _get down!”_ Harry threw himself over Malfoy’s upper body, forcing the boy back down into a bowing position, with Harry wrapped protectively around his shoulders. He closed his eyes tightly and wondered if Malfoy could feel how fast his heart was beating from their new position. The sound of Buckbeak’s frantic steps came to a halt, but Harry barely dared breathe, let alone look up to see what was happening.

“I knew it,” Malfoy whimpered from below him. “You brought me out here to kill me, I knew you had some ulterior motive to hanging out with me.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry hissed. “I just saved your bloody life.” Then he felt it - a gentle nuzzling against the side of his face and hot snorts of breath on the back of his neck that he knew were not from Malfoy.

“Easy, boy.” Harry stood slowly and took Buckbeak’s head in his hands again, stroking gently. “Easy now, you’re all right.”

“Of course he’s all right - he’s the one who almost killed _me!”_

“Shut it, Malfoy. And look.” 

Painstakingly slowly, Malfoy lifted his blonde head and looked up at Harry and Buckbeak. Harry was sure he was grinning like a fool, while Buckbeak bowed low beside him.

“Fancy a ride?” He asked cheekily. Malfoy stood slowly, straightening his back with a wince, and kept his eyes locked on Buckbeak. He worried at his bottom lip with his teeth for only a few seconds before making his decision.

“Yeah,” Malfoy breathed. “Yeah, okay.” And then he looked at Harry with an expression of such incredible wonder and awe and _excitement_ that Harry thought his heart might jump right out of his chest.

* * *

There was no feeling in the world quite like this, Harry thought, as he and Malfoy went swooping and diving through the air on Buckbeak’s back. Harry was seated in the front, since he knew what he was doing, with Malfoy pressed close behind him, hands wrapped impossibly tight around Harry’s midsection. Harry didn’t yell at Malfoy to loosen up because he couldn't fucking _breathe_ , just let him cling on for dear life. Malfoy had screamed for about the first 45 seconds of the ride, but Harry remembered his first hippogriff flight as well, so he magnanimously decided not to mention the reaction ever again.

They were making slow, easy laps around the forest as Harry let Malfoy get used to the sensation and calm his nerves.

“Alright?” Harry called over his shoulder when Malfoy’s bone-crushing grip loosened. Malfoy was pressed so close that Harry could feel rather than see when Malfoy nodded his head in response. Harry smiled to himself, hoping that Malfoy hadn’t had too much to eat that day, as he dug his knees into Buckbeak’s side and with a tremendous flap of his wings, the creature broke from their previous flight pattern and went soaring to his own liking.

Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath of air as they started plummeting out of the sky, only to pull up short right before they were about to hit the ground and going completely vertical as they shot towards the clouds. When they leveled out, hundreds of feet in the air, Malfoy let out a breathless laugh, his breath tickling the back of Harry’s neck.

“Would you fucking look at this?!” He shouted with another laugh. And then, to Harry’s complete and utter shock, Malfoy let out an actual, honest-to-Merlin, _whoop_. As if spurred on directly by Malfoy’s own excitement, Buckbeak let loose a loud squawk, tossing his head back towards the open sky, and went spiraling back towards the ground.

All of Malfoy’s previous nerves had slipped away, and he shrieked with happiness as the feeling of their stomachs jumping into their throats overtook them and Harry began to laugh as well because this was the most free he had possibly ever felt. And Malfoy was helping him experience it. 

Buckbeak soared down over the lake, talons skimming the water, and Harry felt Malfoy’s thighs tighten around his waist. Before Harry could fully process what was going on, Malfoy’s grip on his middle completely vanished. 

Harry’s initial reaction was panic. Oh Merlin, they’d send him straight to Azkaban for sure if Draco Malfoy died right now, with no witnesses to prove he hadn’t shoved him into the lake on purpose besides a hippogriff. Lucius Malfoy would have his head on a stake, no doubt about that. And somewhere beneath all of that panic was terror because _,fuck,_ he was actually really gonna kinda miss Malfoy, and - 

“WOO!” Harry broke out of his internal breakdown and realized that Malfoy’s legs were still pressed around him, that Malfoy was still very much alive and safely on Buckbeak’s back. ‘Woo-ing’ like he hadn't just nearly given Harry a sodding heart attack.

“You idiot!” Harry started to yell, feeling his panic subside into anger that Malfoy had made him feel that way, as if the other boy had done it on purpose. But then he turned around and looked over his shoulder, and every angry thought he had had in his entire life just walked right out of his brain.

Malfoy had his long, lean arms thrown out at his sides like his very own pair of wings, head thrown back and an elated smile lighting up his face. His crisp white button down was rolled up at the sleeves to show his forearms, first few buttons undone so that the wind ruffled the collar and pushed it to show his fine collarbones. The blonde boy’s face was tipped towards the sky so that the last few rays of sunlight of the day danced across the tops of his cheekbones, eyes closed with his pale eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks. Harry had no idea how long he had been staring when Malfoy opened his eyes and he looked down, right at Harry, with that lovely, ecstatic smile of his. 

_Oh, fuck,_ Harry thought with a sharp tugging at his chest. _Draco Malfoy was the most bloody beautiful thing he had ever seen._

* * *

“That was _incredible,_ Potter, honestly, how am I supposed to go back to a broom after that?”

The sun was almost completely set by the time he and Malfoy couldn’t feel their legs anymore and decided it was time to let Buckbeak retire to his pen. Malfoy was now walking slightly bowlegged, which Harry was sure he was doing as well, both of them with wild, wind-blown hair and pink cheeks. 

Malfoy was disheveled and breathless and his shirt was untucked and he looked like a complete mess, and fuck, Harry still thought he was beautiful. So, so fucking beautiful. And as terrifying it was, the way it made his stomach feel like a black hole was sucking his entire body into itself, it was also making him a bit dizzy with the exhilaration of it.

“It’ll never be the same,” Harry told him honestly, bumping Malfoy’s shoulder with his own just because he felt like he could.

“You’ve ruined me,” Malfoy gave Harry’s shoulder a reply bump and Harry’s insides did that weird flippy thing again. The pair, with matching grins and their school robes tossed carelessly over their shoulders, headed towards the Great Hall for dinner. Harry was already dreading the moment they walked in and were forced to separate and go to their own house tables, but for now, he was content just to walk by Malfoy’s side. Malfoy made a stupid joke, his eyes glinting, and Harry had barely heard what it was, but he was laughing along with Malfoy, not even hesitating for a moment, when they turned a corner and stopped dead in their tracks.

Ron was standing at the other end of the hallway, and the boy looked up when he heard Malfoy and Harry coming around. His eyes flashed with betrayal when he caught sight of them, and Harry realized what they must have looked like, him and Malfoy. Just coming back from a day of excitement outside, cheeks flushed with happiness and shoulders bumping amicably. They must have looked like best mates, or something. 

Ron’s face crumpled into something that was a mixture of anger and pain, and he turned quickly and stomped down the hallway.

Harry and Malfoy were no longer laughing. 

“I’m - I’m not really that hungry, actually,” Harry mumbled, already beginning to back away from Malfoy and the Great Hall. Malfoy turned to Harry with a little frown. 

“You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’m fine. Really,” Harry said quickly, hating how _not_ fine his voice sounded. Because suddenly, everything had become too much. He had spent almost the entire day without even a whisper of a thought of Ron crossing his mind, far too preoccupied by spending time with Malfoy, and the guilt of it was slowly pooling in his gut like a vat of acid. No matter how lovely and charming and funny Draco Malfoy was, _Ron_ was Harry’s best mate, and he was worried that he had really hurt him. And looking at Malfoy was getting harder and harder by the second, because _Merlin,_ he was so lovely, even with his lips tugged down in the corner and that little crease that had formed between his brows.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, hating the way it made Malfoy’s face just draw down just a little bit more.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Malfoy said very quietly. “Thank you, for today. I had a lot of fun with you, and I - “ he broke off, looking pleadingly into Harry’s eyes, like he wanted to Harry to finish his sentence for him. But Harry couldn’t, he could barely even finish his own sentences. Couldn’t even control his own thoughts.

“I had fun, too. Really, I just, I need to go. I’ll see you around.” Harry swallowed hard, letting himself have on last look at Malfoy’s fair features, before he turned and nearly sprinted back to his room.

* * *

Ron didn’t return to their room until much later that night. Harry had just about given up on his roommate coming home that night, when the doorknob twisted from the other side and was yanked open by a very red-faced Ron, Hermione following close after him with a troubled expression.

“Ron,” Harry sat up on his bed quickly. “I’m-“ Ron tugged the curtain around his bed closed tightly before Harry could get out another word. He sat there quietly, straining to hear the hushed words that Ron and Hermione were whispering to each other in urgent tones, but to no avail. He decided to wait it out, and for the first time that day, allowed himself to think about his Great Malfoy Revelation.

Which was an unfair name, really, because it was neither ‘great’ nor really much of a ‘revelation’. He had always basically known that Malfoy was an extremely attractive person, he had just never really cared about it because it didn’t mean anything to him. It had never been in such close proximity of his own life. And then all of a sudden, there Malfoy was, all gorgeous and arse-holeish right in his face. Literally.

So, Harry reasoned, there was really nothing to freak out about here, because he always knew Malfoy was beautiful, he just also happened to be Harry’s friend now. Which was fine, really, because Harry had always known that he thought boys were just as attractive as girls, and knowing that his mate was attractive didn’t mean he _fancied_ him, it just meant he had eyes and a flexible sexuality.

“Well, why don’t you go out and find yourself a smarter boyfriend then?” Ron’s voice rose from behind the curtain. “I recommend you try Malfoy, apparently he’s an excellent replacement for me!” Hermione responded in low tones that Harry couldn’t hear. Ron continued: “It won’t even take long, apparently! A few bloody days and you’ll forget I even existed! Go on, Hermione, why don’t you just go make Malfoy your brand new-“

Harry had enough.

“Enough!” he shouted as he threw open Ron’s dividing curtain forcefully. Ron rose to his feet immediately, face screwed up like he wanted to scream and cry all at once.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, _mate?”_ Ron spat in a vengeful tone.

“You’re mental! I never ‘replaced’ you with Malfoy, you were the one who left _me!”_ And Harry knew he sounded a bit like a crazy ex, but he couldn’t help himself as a week of frustration suddenly came to a boiling point.

“Left you? I gave you a choice, and you picked Malfoy and now he’s your new best mate and you don’t need me anymore,” Ron let out all in one breath.

“Of course I still need you, you absolute wanker! I didn't _choose_ anyone, I was friends with both of you, and yeah, I kept being friends with Malfoy even while you were being a miserable git.” 

“Oh well you’re bloody welcome, looks like things turned out just peachy for you and your brand new model of me. Your fancy new best mate. I hope the two of you are very happy togeth-“

“I didn’t replace you with Malfoy!” Harry screamed, nearly to the point of tearing out his hair. Ron froze, startled by Harry’s hysterical tone, and they stood staring at each other, chests heaving with their rapid breaths. “Ron,” Harry breathed heavily. “I didn’t replace you with Malfoy because I _couldn’t._ It’s not even possible. No matter how close Malfoy and I get - even if he did become my ‘best mate’ - it wouldn’t matter because you aren’t my best mate, Ron. You’re my brother.”

And those were the truest words Harry had ever spoken in his life, he reckoned. Ron was more than his best mate, Ron was _family,_ there for him since before Harry could remember and having never left his side since. Ron knew more about him than anyone else, and loved him for all of it regardless. He shared his house and family with Harry, and Harry did the same. He and Ron were literally so intricately woven into each other’s lives, that he couldn’t imagine ever living without him. From the tears that Ron looked like he was furiously fighting back, he knew Ron felt the same.

“You’re my _brother,_ you wanker,” Harry repeated, shoving at Ron’s shoulders. Ron let out a gruff laugh and shoved Harry back.

“You, too, you tosser.”

“Boys,” Hermione rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back on Ron’s bed with a weary sigh, but there was a grin tugging at her lips.

* * *

“So, Malfoy, then?” Ron asked a few hours later, tearing the wrapper off of another chocolate frog. Hermione had left long ago and the two Gryffindor boys were sitting on the floor, backs resting against their beds respectively, feeling very much like third-years staying up late and telling secrets again. Harry shrugged and leaned his head back on his mattress.

“He’s actually pretty brilliant,” he admitted, not wanting to see Ron’s reaction. To his surprise, however, Ron didn’t react with disgust immediately.

“You really think so…?” He asked quietly after a few moments.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I reckon I could give him a chance.”

Harry sat up so fast he felt all the blood rushing out of his head. “Wha- really? You mean that?”

Ron stared down at the floor resolutely and nodded. “You obviously have very good taste in mates, so, if you think he’s so bloody great, he must not be all that bad.”

“Y’know what, Ron?”

“Hm?”

Harry grinned, feeling like his chest was going to burst with happiness at any moment, and if he was going to die, he needed to get this out first.

“You’re pretty brilliant, too.”

Ron snorted and kicked at Harry’s outstretched foot between them. “‘Course I am. Now let’s go to bed before I change my mind.”

“Alright, mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh thank god let me tell you people this was so hard to write because I LOVE RON WEASLEY
> 
> I love him, I do, I'm so glad they've finally made up I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
> 
> Anywayssssss, I hope you all enjoyed and please leave me comments and let me know what you thought! And, as always, feel free to come talk to me on [ tumblr! ](http://a-little-unsteadyy.tumblr.com)


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